Hatred Destroys
by Chuck Norris Worshipper
Summary: After James Potter is killed, all his sister is left with is pain... and hate.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER.**

_Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead?  
_

Numbly, I walked through the ruins of the Potter house. There... By the stairs. There was a crumpled heap... Wet, dark hair was plastered to the person's face... Glasses skittered a few few away from his body.

_Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead?  
_

I was rooted to the spot. I couldn't speak, I couldn't move, I couldn't _feel_. Why didn't he move? Sometimes, in books, I read about people wishing that their loved one would just get up and smile and say they're alright... I didn't feel that. The million dollar question still hung heavily in my mind.

I was so afraid to find the answer.

_Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead?  
_

I wanted this moment to last forever, although it was surely the worst moment of my life. Not knowing... But I didn't want to know. Nothing was set in stone... If... if he _was _dead, then my whole life would change. For the worst.

_Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead?  
_

"Please, James." I whispered, and took a step towards him. I fell flat on my face because I hadn't registered the movement... _You used to laugh at me when I did that. Why don't you laugh?_

_Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead?  
_

I don't care if he's dead or not... I wanted to cry. Seeing him like this... slumped over, his jaw dropped in what seemed to be shocked, his eyebrows still unrelaxed from when he... fell.

_Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead?  
_

I scrambled to my feet, and couldn't move again. "James." I whispered brokenly, tears streaming down my face.

_Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead?  
_

Over the years, I would have rather read a book than try to make him proud... Be that sister he could have been proud of. But I had failed him. I'd fought him every step of the way. Had I told him I loved him last time I saw him? Why hadn't I been his friend while we attended Hogwarts? _All the books in the world, I would have given for you._

_Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead?  
_

I couldn't take it anymore. I ran to his crumpled body, and reached for his arm as I had done so many times before. His arm didn't hold the warmth I longed for... He was ice cold.

_Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead?  
_

Cold... That was what I felt. Pouring, icy ran splattered me. What had happened to the roof? What had happened _here_?

_Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead?  
_

I felt for a pulse. I had to know... I had to know if he was dead.

_Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead?  
_

...No pulse.

Next thing I knew, the most horrible sound I have ever heard sounded. It was the most hideous, broken wail coming from a young woman. It held pain and loss. It wasn't pretty, nor was it dramatic. It was pure heartbreak.

It was coming from me.

_James is dead. James is dead. James is dead. James is dead. James is dead. James is dead. James is dead. James is dead. James is dead. James is dead._


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER.**

_I hate you. I hate you. I hate you._

I kept a picture of him in my house... But not because I loved him. Not because I missed him.

_I hate you. I hate you. I hate you._

I hated him. I kept a picture so I would never forget... That would betray the people that really matter. It would betray everyone I had lost.

_I hate you. I hate you. I hate you._

To some, Voldemort was the symbol of the First Wizarding World... To me, it was _him_.

_I hate you. I hate you. I hate you._

I stared at the picture of him screaming like a maniac... The one that showed up in the Prophet. That same issue, it had held news of the war being over. It also told of what a heavy cost... The cost of my brother's life. The cost of his wife's. And now, they had an orphaned son... But no one asked where little Harry was. They just knew that he was the one who had defeated Voldemort. My brother's life doesn't matter in their worthless.

_I hate you. I hate you. I hate you._

I'm not an Auror to protect them. I'm an Auror to find the names of those who were responsible for taking James's life.

_I hate you. I hate you. I hate you._

Before James's death, I was so happy... living in fairytales. What a _cruel _awakening it was. And now, hatred clouds my every movement. It's made me smart, and protected. People who took James and Lily away from me and Harry deserve to be sought after, to be hunted, to be hated to, to be killed, to be _tortured_.

_I hate you. I hate you. I hate you._

"I hate you." I whispered, hatred lacing my words beautifully. Sirius Black had been trouble from the start. James stopped caring about me... He wanted me to be like Sirius, his best friend. Sirius this, Sirius that... And I hid in my books.

_I hate you. I hate you. I hate you._

It was so different to have someone die of old age and to have someone murdered... My parents... It was peaceful. Almost reassuring. But James? He was young.

_I hate you. I hate you. I hate you._

That same night, Uncle Alex was murdered. He had never married... I bet they would have killed her too if he had married. I bet that Voldemort would have taken them all... But little Harry stopped him.

Why couldn't he have stopped Sirius?

_I hate you. I hate you. I hate you._

I was next... I was next. Why does it not bother me that I would have been next?

Maybe I wanted...want... to be next.

_I hate you. I hate you._

"I hate you! Why can't you be more like Sirius?" I found myself saying. Repeating words of the past... I couldn't stop the tears that flooded my eyes. James had been angry... he hadn't meant it. But it was so _easy _to let his words cut into me. He'd been so stupid to trust him. _I _had stayed loyal to the end... The bitter end. And the end seemed to go on forever.

Harry was in 3rd year. Did he know about me? Was he proud of his Auror aunt that had dedicated her life to putting evil people where they belong? That she was fighting harder than any of them?

_Or does he think that I left him just like his parents?_

_I hate you. I hate you. I hate you._

I felt so sick of crying all the time, of feeling regret, of feeling _pain _and _misery_... Why wasn't it getting better? Why wasn't it getting easier? Wasn't that how the world worked?

_I hate you. I hate you. I hate you._

"You're the reason." I hissed at Sirius Black's picture. "I hate you! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!" I screamed, throwing my head in my arms (which I had placed on my kitchen table) and sobbed.

What was wrong with me? What's going on?

_I hate you. I hate you. I hate you._


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN TWILIGHT**

_You traitor._

Someone was rapping at my door. I groaned, and hoped it would go away...

_You traitor._

But it didn't. After another ten minutes, I pulled a robe over my naked body and stumbled downstairs. I threw open the door and let out a gut wrenching scream. Not out of fear... It was out of anger.

"How _dare _you show your face here." I hissed.

_You traitor._

"Celia." The man said weakly. Time had treated him well-his hair was straggly, his cheeks hallow, his eyes dull. Just what he deserved: his good looks were ruined.

_You traitor._

I lunged at him, strangling him. Azkaban had made him weak... Like inside. He was crazy, he was horrible, he was a liar, he was a_ traitor. _He'd killed James-the one who had given him everything!

"Please!" He screamed out through his tight windpipe.

"I hate you!" I yelled.

_You traitor._

Suddenly, he was gone. I was on my front step... Alone.

_Sirius Black was in Azkaban._

_You traitor._

Pale, I stood up slowly. "Oh, _gosh_." I said through unmoving lips. I'd hallucinated. I talked to myself. I hated him so much... It was _so real_. I had smelled him, I'd felt his sweaty, sallow skin beneath my hands... And it had all been my imagination.

Celia Potter, the most promising Auror, was losing it.

_You traitor._

I stumbled back to bed, horror stricken by the sickeningly real fantasy, and fell into a dreamless sleep...

_You traitor._

The next day, the Ministry was a mess with panicked wizards and yelling workers. I didn't know what was going on-how could I?-so I rushed over to a woman who was yelling something about her kids.

"Ma'am, it'll be okay." I soothed her.

_You traitor._

"He'll never rest until he kills us all!" The woman wailed hysterically, clawing at her face. I realized it was Gillian Jierre-a pureblood Slytherin James and Black had tormented back in Hogwarts.

"It'll be alright." I repeated firmly. "Voldemort's dead, his followers are as useless as headless chickens." I reminded her.

"Aaaaaaayeeeeeaaaaahhhh!" She wailed, running out of the Ministry's doors. I followed her with my eyes, startled.

_You traitor._

"Potter!" Aruthur Weasley yelled. Although we're on friendly terms, he doesn't call me by my first name.

No one does.

_You traitor._

"What?" I asked him, confused as to why he had sought me out.

"Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban!"

_You traitor._

"They say he's going for Harry next!"

_You traitor._

"Did you hear that? Harry could be in grave of danger!"

_You traitor._

"I have to find him." I hissed. Not Harry... I didn't have time for that. I only had time for a letter, perhaps. I needed to devote all my time to put the sick maniac, Sirius Black, back cuddling with Dementors... He'll be sent back in with a nice little kiss...

_You traitor._

_Dearest Harry,_

_There is a very dangerous man named Sirius Black out there right now. He escaped Azkaban last night.  
_

_He killed my brother. He killed you parents. He turned them in to Voldemort. He was your father's best friend._

_He is the lowest scum of the Earth, and he could be after you next._

_I won't be able to write again for a long, long time. I'm sorry I couldn't do this is in person._

_Love,_

_Your Aunt Celia_

_You traitor._

That night, I heard the knocking again.

_You traitor._

I didn't want to answer the door and face another one of my frightening hallucinations.

_You traitor._

But the knocking wouldn't go away.

_You traitor._

The scary part:

_You traitor._

It turns out it wasn't coming from my door.

_You traitor._

It was coming from my window.

_You traitor._


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER**

_I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry._

I couldn't take it any longer. I ripped open the curtains... And I was sure it wasn't a hallucination. It was too real! But it was that same pleading expression...

_I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry._

But he was pounding on my window, and I had to open... I did. I weakened. I'm sorry. I failed.

_I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry._

I let my brother's killer into my house.

_I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry._

"Celia." He breathed, staring at me.

"Sirius." I said through unmoving lips.

_I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry._

"Why did you do it?" I asked after a moment of silence. I didn't comment on the fact that his muddy feet and dripping water was soiling my stark white carpet. I could fix that with a spell... If this was actually happen. I wanted to make it stop, but it had been so disorientating when I had realized...

_I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry._

"I didn't."

_I'm so__rry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry._

And my world came crashing down with those two, simple words.

"_What_?"

_I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry._

"I didn't do it. I wasn't their secretkeeper."

_I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry._

"James... would tell me." I said uncertainly. Where was my hatred? All I had was confusion. Why did I believe him so easily? I had spent years hating him... I stared at his beddragled appearance. Why had he come to me?

_I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry._

"I'm sorry. He didn't want to put you in danger."

_I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry._

"Get out." I whispered.

"What?" He stared at me in shock.

_I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry._

"Get out." I said louder.

"But-"

"GET OUT!" I screamed, tears coursing down my face. "I hate you! I hate you, I hate you, I _hate _you!"

"It wasn't me, Celia! I loved him as much as you did!"

"He loved you more!" I screamed. "_You stole him from me_! _I HATE YOU_!"

"Celia, it wasn't-"

"GET OUT OF HERE BEFORE I MURDER YOU!" I collapsed into sobs.

The truth I had been hiding from for so long was right in front of me.

_I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry._

James loved him more. He always had. And... And his son. I'd left him with Lily's _awful _sister so I could fight the forces of evil... But didn't family come first? _Then why did he love Sirius Black more than his sister?_

_I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry._

"Celia." He sounded agonized. "He loved you so much!"

"No, he wanted me to be like _you_! _YOU RUINED MY LIFE! GET OUT! I HATE YOU!_"

_I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry._

"_I'M SORRY!_"_  
_


	5. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER OR ANY OF IT'S CHARACTERS.**

_Regret._

"Hi."

I looked up, and met the eyes of my nephew, and flushed crimson. I looked away at the photo of James and I, smiling. It was the only picture I had of us that Sirius wasn't in. "Hello." I said back dully.

_Regret._

"I brought you some chocolate frogs."

If I'd spent any time with my nephew, he would know that I hate chocolate frogs. I felt the familiar trickle of guilt.

_Regret._

"I'm sorry." I said, looking at my handsome nephew. 15 years old now. 2 years ago was the first time we'd been in the same presence since he was a baby for more than an hour.

It had been humiliating.

_Regret._

"It's okay, Celia." He assured me quickly.

_Celia_. Shouldn't it be Aunt? Or some fond nickname? He called me by my first name, but with him, it didn't feel like good terms.

"How's Sirius?" I asked after a moment of awkward silence, forcing myself to eat the chocolate frog. I succeeded in not making a face.

_Regret._

"He's doing fine," He said tonelessly.

_He's doing this out of duty, only. _I reminded myself miserably. _He's such a good boy... And you weren't there to see him become one._

"Can you tell me again about the tournament?"

_If I weren't locked in St. Mungos, I could have helped prevented it. I would have known Moody was a fake._

But my attempt at conversation failed as he only muttered a few sentences. Finally, I couldn't stop the tears... It came with the meds to be overly emotional. He looked quite startled. "What's wrong, Celia?"

_Regret._

"I'm so sorry!" I blubbered. "We're like strangers, and you get more information about your father from Lupin and Black! In my eagerness to make the world a better place, I... I neglected the most important things."

"Aunt Celia, we both know you were sick." Harry tried to soothe me, but I was heading towards hysterics. Some Healers came out and lead him from the room while another gave me a Calming Drought... After gulping it down, I found it helped me breathe correctly.

_Regret._

I've been in St. Mungos since Sirius Black showed up at my house. Now, he's in hiding... And I'm a crazy person. "You're not crazy," they say. "Just sick." But I know they think I'm crazy. I know I'm crazy.

I hate it here. Not really hard to imagine, but I hate it here. It gives me time to think, to dwell on all the stupid things I've done... The innocent people I've sent to Azkaban and the Death Eaters I missed...

I closed my eyes tightly. If Sirius Black can escape, then shouldn't the other prisoners? They'll hate me. I'm done for. Dead. Toast.

_Regret._

If I'd just handled things differently... If I had tried to stop them from sending Sirius Black to Azkaban without a trial... No. Why would I? He was guilty. But how could I be so hypocritical as to send him without a trial but demand everyone else gets a fair trial?

_Regret._

Harry Potter: The nephew I don't know.

Sirius Black: The one James loved more... And I let him go to Azkaban as an innocent.

Me: I let myself get this way.

_Regret._

I know that me being here affects Harry. I know that Malfoy kid probably taunts him about his loony aunt, his dead parents, his crazy killer of a godfather... But if I would have just done things differently... If I'd have _known_...

_Regret._

There was nothing I could do, though. I had to fix things... But how do you erase 15 years of your life?

_Regret._

**Almost done. :) I think one more chapter.**_  
_


	6. Chapter 6

**Thought I'd finish this up. :)**

**FIVE YEARS LATER**

_Happy._

Harry ran a hand through his hair tiredly. Why him? It wasn't the first time he'd wondered. Why? Why him? Losing Sirius was bad enough. Then losing his aunt... Why'd he do it? Why couldn't he have just let her back into his life?

_Happy._

Truth was, she'd never done anything right. From Sirius's stories, she'd always clung to Harry's father. In Azkaban, innocent men and women had filled the cells due to her obsession. Harry had been forced to live with his aunt.

_Happy._

_And then she came to her senses. And Harry had deemed her unworthy. He'd pushed her away, and in his subconscious... He'd made sure that she suffered for not being there for 15 years of his life. He was told to be nice for her, but all he felt for her was... hatred._

_And now she was dead._

_Happy._

Harry couldn't help but feel it was his fault. That's because it was. If he had just... just made an effort... Like she never had. She was a woman who resembled him and his father. She had never been there for him. But wasn't he supposed to be better than them? He was.

_Happy._

He should be asleep. He should be moving on with his life. But all he could do was remember her anxious, regretful face as he left her room in the hospital. James Jr. had loudly asked outside the door, "Why do we have to come here? It's so boring. Victoire says she's insane, anyway."

_Happy._

"Shh..." Harry had muttered. But he hadn't corrected him.

Then, Harry saw that casket. The sky was bright and sunny, as if all was right in the world. She lay there, serene, her frown and worry lines smoothed over as if by magic. She looked so utterly peaceful. But Harry had seen her with her eyes open–glazed and empty.

_Happy._

_The Daily Prophet_ wrote a tribute to her. It mentioned only that she died in St. Mungos. Now about _how_ she died or that she was utterly insane at the end. At least, that's what the Healers said. She just stayed in that room, all day long, ever day, every week, ever month, every year. His Aunt never knew, but Harry could have taken her home any time.

But he hadn't. Because he wanted her to suffer like he had.

_Happy._

His wife, Ginny, lay beside him. She slept peacefully, her breathing similar to a cat's pur. It was comforting, but that didn't take away the guilt.

_Happy._

Harry finally got out of bed. He wasn't going to be able to sleep. He quietly crept into his bathroom and opened the cabinet. He pulled out the crinkled and worn piece of paper written in his aunt's aged hand.

_Dear Harry,_

_I'm sorry. I know I have failed you so much. I have failed your father... I let hatred consume me, and it drove me to insanity._

_I'm sorry that you can never forgive me. I wouldn't forgive me either. I only hope... I only hope that your father and Sirius might. And maybe, in the next life, you can come to forgive me too. _

_I'm sorry for making you visit me. I know you don't want to. I know you don't like me. I'm sorry._

_I'm sorry for all the people I've imprisoned falsely._

_I'm sorry for ruining so many people's lives... I'm sorry for ruining my own._

_Harry, if you're anything like your father, maybe you'll feel guilty. Don't. Don't feel a drop of guilt or regret. I want you to be happy, Harry. Raise the family that I always wanted to. That Sirius always wanted to. That James wanted to. Live Happily Ever After._

_I know you can. I know it._

_I see no future for me. I don't want to wait for you to come around (if ever). I don't want to waste my days away. My life holds nothing. I'm not afraid of death... Does this disease do that to me?_

_Be happy, Harry. Happy. I love you dearly. Thank you._

_Sincerely,_

_Your Aunt Celia_

_Happy._

Harry felt tears sting his eyes. There was no doubt that he could have done something. He'd been selfish. He'd... he'd...

"Harry?" Ginny asked softly. Harry looked up, green eyes wide.

_Happy._

"What are you doing, Harry? Come back to bed."

_Happy._

Aunt Celia had wanted him to be happy. Ginny... Ginny made him happy. His family made him happy. But how could he live with that guilt?

_You just have to. _He thought of his parents, how they never got their happily ever after. He thought of Tonks and Remus. He thought of Sirius. He thought of Celia. So many people had died for... for _him_ to be happy.

_Happy._

Okay. He could do that. Harry Potter couldn't turn back time. He couldn't bring Celia, Sirius, or his parents back to life. He couldn't undo their mistakes. He couldn't undo his own mistakes.

But he could be happy. Like they all wanted him to be.

_Happy._

**Yes, Celia Potter took the coward's way out and committed suicide. :/ First story completed that has... SIX CHAPTERS! Woot! **


End file.
